Suggestions
by atlas aire
Summary: He really wasn't supposed be in this universe. And Martha is up for an adventure in another universe. She shouldn't be, but who was she to say no to an offer like that? (Rating may go up due to later chapters)
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Secretly hoping there will be more stories of this pairing.

Also secretly hoping there will be more stories with this Doctor.

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Suggestions

01

He's a peculiar man, all brown waves, blue eyes, and shifty hands. Like really shifty hands. The hospital had him restrained because of the ruckus he apparently started when he came in (Martha wouldn't know, he didn't come in during her shift). He'd find a way to pull off the cuffs without making a noise. Normally, when people cried out about being in the wrong time period and the wrong universe, one would just ignore those complaints and let psychiatric take over. But when she came to take a peek, he was muttering about how he _needed_ to leave, and not only did his ravings make sense, they sounded awfully familiar. That with the lack of a name shouldn't have brought up that twinge of recollection, but it did.

She asked to be his primary and they gladly said yes. He'd kick up a storm whenever someone would try to get his vitals and while he seemed calm around her, he was not calm being in a hospital. Most people who would come to care for him would immediately transfer out. It was probably the most excitement she'd get since Mickey left, so of course she'd volunteer for the only tough case in the hospital.

Monday morning she found herself in his room, cautiously eyeing the security standing guard outside before realizing that he was cautiously eyeing her. He was quiet whenever she showed up, and Martha had a sneaking suspicion that it was because he was waiting for her to confirm her theory, assuming this was the man she thought he was. She picked up the clipboard containing his information, mentally snorting at the fact that nobody could get in enough information about the man outside of personality quirks.

"Not gonna try to knock me out if I check your vitals, right," she asked. She saw him tense up a bit when she sat at the foot of his bed. They didn't cuff his feet, so he'd have the open door to kick at her if he felt the need. Martha gripped her clipboard a bit tighter.

She leaned in a bit, "I've got a reputation, you see," he blinked, not expecting that turn of conversation, "this lot," she nodded her head towards the door, "they know that I have military training, but they don't know that it's not _that_ kind of training. But they think I'm this invincible military lady, y'know?"

He said nothing, but Martha could see the amusement rising in his eyes as she leaned in to whisper conspiringly, "so do me a favour and don't knock me out? For appearances sake?"

He glanced at the door then back to Martha.

"I've got a reputation as a madman," he raised an eyebrow at her, "what makes you think I don't want to keep _my_ reputation?"

That startled a laugh out of her.

"Got me there."

He only felt comfortable with her taking his pulse, which for her, only confirmed that it was indeed the Doctor. UNIT didn't have all the pictures of his faces and she knew there was an eleventh running about now, but she didn't know which one he was, so she was wary about asking in case she unknowingly let a piece of valuable information out that she wasn't supposed to.

It was only when she was in bed that night when she realized it.

"He's not even from the same bloody universe," she shouted at herself as rushed to get dressed.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Thank you to those who reviewed and are watching this story!

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Suggestions

02

Martha wasn't really sure what she was supposed to do here.

She sat in bed and tried to weigh her options. She could call the Doctor she knew and make him deal with it. He could still come if he was technically dead in her timeline, right? She could call Jack or UNIT and have them take over. He'd actually would be more reliable in showing up. She could just turn this Doctor loose and just go on her merry way. She had just gotten use to this job, normalcy would most likely do her good. But...

She wasn't sure. She could pretend that this Doctor wasn't the Doctor at all and just treat him and set him free and ignore anything that could come from it. Still... she wasn't sure.

And how did he manage to creep through another universe? Didn't her Doctor say it wasn't possible? And all those times someone universe hopped, things like the Cybermen and Daleks would show up. Granted, the rules might be different for a being who mastered all those kinds of travel. But...

"He never could fly that thing," she muttered out loud to herself.

This Doctor was alone, of that she was sure. And even she recognized the need for the Doctor have some sort of companion. And if she was going to be perfectly honest, she somewhat wanted to be that companion again. Even if it wasn't her Doctor. Even if he wasn't from her universe. Even if (and this probably should've been the big if) she was most likely going to die from this venture. Already the commitment was made, she'd help this Doctor with whatever he'd need.

But Martha was still a practical person, and recognized this might be bigger than she was and laid in a call to Captain Jack Harkness before heading down to the hospital.

* * *

The night staff knew Martha well, and had no problems with her randomly showing up to "do some paperwork." Since her divorce with Mickey, she was known for showing up after hours to help out for the rare emergency cases, or just catch up on work, or just for a chat. She didn't do well being by herself and doing nothing when she was upset, so aside from signing in, nobody really batted an eye at her appearance.

She didn't really have a plan. She usually did and Martha was fully willing to blame her short sightedness on adrenaline. Jack told her that he was going to be delayed for two days, some emergency case over at Torchwood, which Martha understood. The world wasn't falling apart yet on her side of the world, so there was that. But she was still hyped up and incredibly curious.

She opted for the stairs, to burn off the extra energy and thought about what would need to be done to get the Doctor discharged. Since she was the primary, she could put off or forge certain documents to hide the alienness of the Time Lord, but then what? She was pretty sure that he was going to hop into that blue box of hers and this would just be a simple and forgotten situation.

If she was being realistic, it was even possible that this might not really even be the Doctor. At best, it could be some lunatic prattling on about how he wasn't supposed be here. At worst, it could be another YANA situation. Ah, the things she neglects to think of until she's actually... here.

There was still security stationed outside his room and Martha showed ID to enter. She was quiet when she came in, expecting him to be asleep (or pretending to be). But there he was, sitting up, still cuffed, in a hospital gown, wide eyed and watching.

"Doctor Martha Jones," he grinned at her and she hated how she couldn't help the smile back.

She stayed silent and went over to the safe that should hold his belongings, opened it and took a look. With a smile, lifted up the sonic screwdriver (and while the handle was a bit different, the weight and feel of it remained the same) and velvet jacket.

"Hello, Doctor."

There was a blink then something of an impressed huff of laughter from him.

"We know each other," he tilted his head, "don't we?"

She shrugged at him, "What's up with your fascination with all these layers of clothes? It's nearly summer."

She walked over and sat on his bed and sat, noting how trained his eyes were on her. She waved the sonic a bit, testing it's weight and marveling at the design a bit before tapping the cuffs with it.

"Setting 362," he murmured, "and if you know me like I think you do, then you should know that we can withstand high temperatures."

"Of course," she rolled her eyes as she set to work, "but even you lot have your boiling point."

"Sure," he agreed, "but the layers have nothing to do with it."

She rolled her eyes again, noting that mentally, having the last word must be a thing with all the Doctors. She managed to get the first cuff unlocked.

"I bet you even have a top hat hiding with all those clothes," she muttered as she handed over the screwdriver over to the Doctor.

"Absolutely nothing wrong with tophats," he defended.

"Of_ course_, Doctor."

* * *

She worked on discharge papers for him as he chatted away at her about (as far as she knew), absolutely nothing. She kept herself incredibly silent once she noticed that this Doctor didn't use past tense when talking about Gallifrey. Alternate universes be damned, she knew better than to even try to interfere. This was a Doctor before the one she knew, she realized and there was an instant feeling of pity because of the marked differences. He still rambled on, there was something more open about this one and Martha now understood why.

The hospital, she knew was more than happy to get rid of him. The man didn't have any insurance and he was so easily agitated. So the best thing to do was to get him out as quickly as possible, which thankfully, was only a few hours.

In the meantime, she let him speak, knowing full well that this was going to be the last time she saw from him. He was so animated, and his curls bounced as he explained his last adventure before finding himself here. But then he cut himself off abruptly.

"Oh Martha," he leaned in close. The grave tone in his voice made her pause.

"Yes Doctor?"

"I'm not supposed to be here. My TARDIS... Oh Martha, I think there's something wrong here."

"Not following," she responded. But in the back of her mind she knew that this was the same line of thinking she had on her way to see him. If nobody said it out loud, it wouldn't make it real, right?

"It's one thing to get the wrong time period," he told her, "but the wrong universe? Martha, I think I was brought here on purpose."

She ignored the odd mix of anticipation and dread bubbling through her.

"I honestly was hoping this was y'know, pilot error or something."


	3. Chapter 3

A/N: So shame on me for putting this off for a century. I wanted to pause this for a bit so I can make sure I fixed out the timeline for this story so I can stay on track. Then I ended up adopting a dog (who I call the Brigadier now) and was distracted for a century. Sorry about that. On the plus, I'm back on track, so updates will be rolling in faster!

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Suggestions

03

The Doctor was completely ridiculous, Martha decided. She thought that he was going to go directly to the TARDIS and go on her way but the second they were a block away from the hospital, he stopped, and told her that he wasn't exactly sure _where_ the TARDIS was.

"Come again?"

"Well," and he actually looked sheepish, "she kind of..." he trailed off and made a "poof" gesture with your hands.

"How does she just-"

"I don't know! It wasn't my priority when I was being kicked out of her and shipped out to a hospital," he frowned, "there was a lot of activity going on, I had to prioritize!"

Martha covered her mouth with her hands and stared at him for a moment. It was still dark but the light from the lampposts still managed to bring out the brown in his hair, and the blue in his eyes. And while he did have the good sense to look guilty, Martha just wasn't having this.

"No," she said, more to herself really. And started walking home.

She was a good few strides in before she heard the Doctor call out to her.

"Where are you going?" She could hear him trailing after her. She didn't stop, or answer him. She did, however, started walking faster.

"Martha?" He was walking right beside her now. One of these days she was going to have to meet a man who wasn't taller than her. Even Mickey could catch up to her with relative speed. Martha sighed, stopped and looked over at the Doctor, who was staring at her through his hair.

"No," she blurted out, "I'm not going to process this right now."

"I'm sure we'll be able to find her in-"

"I'm sure," she interrupted, "but not right now."

Some part of her mind noted how she probably would never really interrupt her Doctor like this. Some part of her mind noted that it was because she didn't know this version of the Doctor. Some part of her mind also suspected that he was letting her get away with interrupting her.. A big part of her mind noted her lack of properly ordered priorities. Martha took a breath and started.

"I called a friend, and he'll be able to help. But he won't be here for a few days," she told him, "I can call the people I use to work for to help you find the TARDIS right now but you'll be on your own. Because I'm tired and the adrenaline is wearing off."

She also needed to sort out her brain, because she was feeling... a lot of things and she just didn't want to process any of them until she was more rested and less aggravated. She waited for the Doctor to respond, because it would be rude to just walk off when he really didn't have a proper place to go.

But he continued to stare at Martha until she gave out an exasperated sigh.

"I'm going home, I'm sleeping, tomorrow we can deal with this. If you want to join me and rest, there's space on the couch."

And with that, Martha resumed her walk back home.

* * *

Martha wasn't really sleeping. She would chalk this up to the happenings of today but her unique sleep habits have been like this since she had seen Tom die in that year that never was. Issues that turned into habits that'll eventually turn into something second nature for her.

In the living room, there was another version of the Doctor just... sitting there. Or sleeping. She wasn't sure how to really wrap her head around that one. In theory, it made sense, in fact, there could be a version of herself and the Doctor roaming around at this very moment due to their travels. Thing was, it was quite different to get things in theory and see how it looked in reality.

At that, this Doctor was a bit more different. The obvious different face thing aside, he was more open, more quick to make quips and spoke about certain subjects in present tense. But he was also more anxious, a whole lot more jumpy, and had an even more shorter attention span compared to the man she was use to seeing. She wondered if they- he got more calmer as he got older. She would have to meet with the current (newer?) incarnation of him to fully get that.

She wanted to go out and get to know this Doctor, to ask what life was like for him right now. But she was supposed to be sleeping. She was also feeling some guilt. Like she was betraying the Doctor by wanting... to go traveling with the Doctor. Oh, but this all was a bit mental.

She was up and out of her room, not really focusing on her actions, as she continued to think. She should've called UNIT immediately, Martha knew. She wasn't a full time officer anymore, but she was still an officer and she should have followed protocol. As she mentally chastised herself, she went through the motions of making tea. Martha was so deep in her thoughts that she didn't even notice the Doctor exploring the stuff in her apartment, or the silent way he observed her as she riffled through her cabinet for the right kind of tea for this moment.

There was a part of Martha that realized why exactly she didn't want to go through UNIT; it was the same reason why she left and the very same reason why she refused to go to Torchwood. She wished her Doctor could have been with her. Even just to tell her she was in the right with her choice back then. Because she hadn't been sure about anything since then.

The high pitched whistle brought Martha out of her thoughts and back into the physical of now. The coolness of the tiles, the contrast it made with the warm air around her, the smell of the cinnamon all registered in first. Then they all became overcome with the annoyingly dominate presence of the Doctor, who immediately went to her when he saw her jump.

"Are you alright," he asked her, hands at her biceps, trying to meet her eyes. There was a slight moment of pride flitted through her when she didn't flinch at him; that use to be a thing that would set Tom off when they were together.

"Lack of sleep," she started as she shrugged out of his touch, "makes me go on autopilot."

She gave him a smile, noting the contradiction in how the Doctor managed to make the air around him warmer while he himself was cold to the touch. She nodded to the tea, both in an offering and an apology, and he took over making the tea in response.

"Not sure if the caffeine will help you sleep," he said conversationally. Martha huffed out a laugh as she went over to sit down.

"Sometimes it does, half the time it does nothing unless it's coming from coffee beans," she smiled. She tried to keep the smile he was giving her in return not affect her. He had the same kind disarming smile as the Doctor she was accustomed to, except this one wasn't backed with devious intent (or maybe it was, there was so much promise lurking behind this Doctor's blue eyes).

Martha watched as he made a cup for the both of them. He was talking to fill the silence, about a lovely little moon that had water that would float and glow in the air during its night. It wasn't something that she could fully focus on, but it was helping her calm her racing thoughts. She was still a bit spaced out when he brought her a cup and lead her into the living room, still chattering away a mile a minute.

Sleep was starting to take her, as she sat on the couch with the Doctor, listening to adventures even her Doctor hadn't seemed to mention. When she finally drifted off, she didn't dream, but for the first time, there was that nice fuzzy feeling that she could only get from a good night's rest.

* * *

He watched her as she slept.

She wasn't in the kind of sleep that rested the mind, but it was the kind that did rest the body, and he was sure that even that was a rarity in itself.

This Martha was a bit of a light sleeper, bundling up and tensing when he made too loud a noise. He would say this was something born of military experience, but she didn't seem like the type to be hardened to that point. He didn't know enough about her to fully make any assessments and with him being in this universe, he was sure that any readings he would get wouldn't really be an accurate vision.

His TARDIS was missing and he missed the hum and purr of his faithful ship. He was sure that she was still within the vicinity, seeing as how the translation matrix worked for some of the hospital personnel who had chatted away in various different languages. There was still that pull and whisper that he could only get from the TARDIS, that small sliver of feeling that was almost human in its strength. He would have to find her soon.

There was another pull and tug in the back of his mind, something that he noticed when he first arrived here. He could only describe it as a weak beacon, like something was reaching out to touch him. The Doctor was sure that whatever brought him here was because of that feeling, and he had a feeling that it really wasn't something that was meant for him.

But that definitely wasn't going to stop him from checking it out.


End file.
